In Actuality
by Sweet Honey-sempai
Summary: At Harry's prompting, Petunia asks Vernon just how unconditional his love is. The answer sends both her and Harry to Grimmauld Place. Will they find love there or will they lose it to Voldemort as the war rages? HP&HG, PD&SS, RW&LL. RR, Ch. 4 up!
1. The Unpleasant Truth

Disclaimer-I don't own Harry Potter

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The Unpleasant Truth

* * *

"Brandy! My favorite!"

Petunia winced as Vernon yanked the bottle out of her hand. Vernon usually held his liquor quite well but when he did get drunk, he always wanted more. It had started with a glass of Zinfandel and now he was drunk as a lord.

"You, me boy!" Vernon said, pointing a beefy finger at Dudley, who looked up from the couch. "You could use s'more rabbit food, if you ask me! Them knockers we got you busted already! You could use a drink, too."

"Vernon, no, Dudley is not ready for alcohol yet."

"Petunia! Dear wife of mine, I'm the boy's father, and I say he needs a drink! Use your bony hand and get Dudders another drink!"

Vernon had a habit of revealing nasty truths while in his cups. Dudley's weight for one, which never failed to make said overweight boy wail—at least, appear to wail. He also had a habit of treating Petunia like the tavern wench.

As Petunia stared at her husband clumsily pouring another glass of brandy, bellowing about the lack of king-sized knickers, she couldn't help thinking of the conversation she'd had the other day with her nephew.

* * *

Petunia opened the door to Harry's bedroom. He was lying on his back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Vernon wants to…put away…your school stuff for the rest of the summer now," she said shortly.

"It's over there," Harry said, listlessly flopping his hand in the general vicinity of his trunk.

Petunia went forward and grabbed the handle of the truck.

"So, Aunt Petunia, did Christopher and Mallory lock up mum's stuff when she got home from school?"

Petunia flinched, and then fixed Harry with a cold eye. "How did you know your grandparents' names?"

"You guys must think I'm a total moron." He sat up and turned to look at her. "You have labeled photos of them in the albums. I can read, you know, and I can deduce stuff quite nicely."

"Why did you never ask this before?"

"Because I never cared before. Now, it'll be interesting enough to know, because those "freaks" at the train station don't want me leaving the house."

"Well, no they didn't, I told you 5 years ago that they were proud of having that abnormality in our family."

"Give it a rest."

"What did you say to me?!" she screeched.

"I said, give it a rest. I don't care how much you try to deny it; you had to have loved my mother once." He fixed her with a hollow stare. "You proved it last year when you wouldn't let Vernon throw me out."

"That was because I didn't want freaks swooping down on us from Heaven knows where."

"That's an elaborate line of bull. There were no threats of them "swooping down" on you last year. You did it because on some level, no matter how cobweb-ridden a level it is, you cared about Lily and therefore you care about me."

"Even if that's true, and I'm not saying it is," she said, white-faced and breathing hard, "it doesn't matter. I am perfectly content with my life away from that freak show you call a lifestyle."

Harry snorted.

"And what was that about?!"

"Do you think you would be happy with your Muggle family if you were a witch? Or even if you hadn't disowned your sister, and showed that you actually cared about me? If you still had ties with the magical world, do you think you would be here? That Vernon would want to be your husband? That Dudley would want to be your son? You're deluded if you think so."

"That's quite enough," Petunia said, her face waxen with rage. She gave the trunk a mighty tug that wrenched it off the floor, and it landed with a bang. "I'll lock you in the cupboard again if you don't knock off that nonsense."

"Do whatever you want, it's only for the next two months, anyway." Harry flopped back down on the bed.

Petunia stormed from the room, the trunk slamming against every step as she dragged it downstairs.

* * *

"You're quite spacy, dear, fancy a drink, too?" Vernon asked, slurring his words, splashing the brandy out of his wine glass as he held it out to her.

"No thank you, darling," Petunia said. "Vernon, could you tell me something?"

"Anything at all, dear, anything at all!" he yelled, a drunken grin spread across his face.

"If I were a witch, would you still love me?"

Vernon paused and stared at her. Petunia held her breath, her hands unconsciously wringing together.

Suddenly, his eyes crinkled up, and a great blow of laughter left him. Petunia gasped, feeling that air was leaving her.

"Don't be stupid, Petunia!" Vernon laughed. "Dear one of my heart, I don't think I could look you in the face! If you were one of those in ridiculous robes sending shouting letters and blowing up fireplaces! Good God, woman, don't be stupid!"

"W-what if I wasn't a witch, but still on good terms with my sister?" Her whole frame was shaking in small but violent tremors.

"Meaning you approved of that absurdity? No, dear one, I need a woman exactly like me in thinking, and that's why we get on so well! A toast to us!" His hand shot up in the air, and the brandy fell in his eyes, making him bellow in pain.

Petunia felt like all her blood had left her and she was deadweight, floating in mid-air.

Harry was right. Vernon did not love her in the unconditional way someone was supposed to. Suddenly she could imagine a satisfied, I-told-you-so expression that Harry would have on his face when he found out. But it was drowned out as she discovered she was crying.

"What's wrong, dear one?" Vernon asked, his little eyes peering from his pudgy face.

"Everything."

She turned and walked away.

* * *

She pushed upon the door to Harry's room and for a moment stared at her nephew. He was tossing and turning in his sleep, muttering something. Apparently the nightmares from last summer hadn't ceased, but they seemed to be diminishing in the amount of fear they gave him, or he was fighting very hard not to scream.

She kept staring until she couldn't bear watching him flail around. She rushed to his bed, grabbed his shoulders, and shook him with violent, jerky arm movements.

"Get off, get off!" Harry shrieked, throwing her back and reaching for his wand, which he had hidden lest it be shut up with the rest of his things. He pointed it at her, squinting through his own near-sighted vision.

"It's just me, Harry. Petunia."

"Then answer me this. What was my mother's full name?"

"Lillian Geraldine Evans-Potter." (#1)

"And what's your full name?"

"Petunia Fiona Evans-Dursely." (#2)

Harry seemed to digest this, and he seemed satisfied. He reached for his glasses and put them on. "What is it?"

"First off, you were practically having a seizure in your sleep, so I had to wake you up."

"Old nightmare," he said with a small tight, shrug, and suddenly it tore at Petunia that he didn't feel the need or the ability to relay the nightmare to her.

"And second off…you were right."

"What?"

"I would not be happy here if I were a witch. Or if I was still close to Lily. You were right and I'm a fool and I hope you're happy with that knowledge." She got up to leave.

"Wait. What?"

"Go back to sleep, Harry. You'll know soon enough."

"Urg," Vernon said. He had just woken up on the couch, with a splitting headache and a hangover to beat the band. "Petunia, did I miss work?" Through his blurred vision he could see his wife standing in the living room, staring at him.

"No, Vernon, it's only 6:30. You made quite a spectacle of yourself last night."

"You must forgive me. You know how I like my liquor."

"I do, but I don't forgive you."

"What?" He looked surprised.

"You told me something last night that made it very clear that this marriage is a sham. You told me you could not love me if I were a witch, or if I still loved my sister."

"Petunia, that's just a drunk's rambli—"

"Vernon Richard (#3) Dursely, I want a divorce."

* * *

#1 and #2 and #3—I prefer to use the actor's names for the character's middle names. That's probably not their real middle names but bear with me, it doesn't much matter. 


	2. Correspondence

Disclaimer-I own nothing

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Correspondence

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Dear Hermione/Ron, whomever this particular letter reaches,

It looks like my aunt is really going through with the divorce. Can't say I'm not happy with that, though I can say that for my cousin. Much wailing and gnashing of teeth, if you get the reference. I think it's all an act though, because he's getting more stuff than ever now. Petunia still likes him even if she suddenly hates Vernon.

I can't believe I held so much sway over her that she actually asked him if he would still love her if she were a witch! Who'd have thought she'd actually take me up on my suggestion? But, then, she's been strange since last summer when she wouldn't let Vernon throw me out of the house.

Hope you and yours and doing well. I might be coming You-Know-Where soon enough, probably when the divorce is final.

With Love,

Harry

PS Have you gotten your OWLs yet? I haven't.

* * *

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Dear Harry,

I and mine are doing well, thank you, and no, I haven't gotten my OWLs yet.

I can tell you are very glad for this divorce. Though I disapprove of the breaking up of a marriage, I am really happy for you. Your uncle has never been—shall we say—pleasant towards you or us, whereas your aunt has always seemed just a tad more nice. I can tell you, when we were leaving the train station this summer, she stared at me, and it looked a little wistful. Almost like she thought I was your girlfriend and she was upset that she hadn't known before that I was.

Well, anyway, are you sure you're going to You-Know-Where? Wouldn't it feel much better if you were to go to The-Other-Place?

I can't wait to see you again; wherever you're going, I am, too. I told that to my parents already and they said it's all right, as long as I come home for the first two weeks of August and they can see me off on the train.

Keep me posted on the progress of the divorce. And—to sound like my old self—tell Dumbledore; you never know what's important!

Love from,

Hermione

* * *

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Dear Hermione,

You got all that from a look?

From,

Harry

* * *

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Dear Prof. Dumbledore

My aunt and uncle are getting a divorce. Hermione seems to think that the divorce might affect something important. Will it diminish the wards or something like that?

Hope you're well. Can't wait to be back at Hogwarts.

Sincerely,

Harry

* * *

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Dear Harry,

I am well, thank you very much, and I'm glad you can't wait to come back to our humble little school.

As for the wards, they are placed around your neighborhood, but the control of them lies in both you and your aunt. Remember, so long as you can call your aunt's dwelling your home, you are protected. So, if your aunt retains ownership of the house, the wards won't be affected.

However, if she loses ownership of the house, we must think of another safe place to relocate both of you. Yes, she must go, too, and I'd prefer it if she stayed with you. As Voldemort rises in power, it is imperative that you remain protected until your magical training is over.

Aside from that, I hope you are well, too, and I look forward to seeing you. Please keep me posted on anything that happens.

Sincerely,

Prof. A. Dumbledore

* * *

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Dear Prof. Dumbledore/Hermione/Ron, whomever this particular letter reaches,

My aunt lost the house. She didn't have her name on the mortgage papers and I guess there isn't any Squatter's Rights in England, so she got booted out. We're going to move out by the 20th.

The custody battle is finally over, too, and predictably, Vernon did not fight for me. The battle for Dudley lasted a week, though. But since Petunia got me, Vernon got Dudley and she's got visitation rights, so we don't have to worry about hauling around my cousin.

So, where am I going from here? You-Know-Where or The-Other-Place?

With love,

Harry

* * *

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Dear Harry,

PLEASE come to The-Other-Place. The Matriarch nearly went mad when I told her you might be going You-Know-Where. She thinks of you as a son, you know, and she doesn't like you being where we aren't. If you have to go You-Know-Where we're going, too. I think we both like The-Other-Place better than You-Know-Where.

I think the OWL's are coming any day now. Good luck, mate!

Hopefully to see you soon,

Ron

* * *

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Dear Ronald Rupert Weasley,

There is a great secret of mine that I hope you will enjoy even more than I enjoyed my trip to Sweden! I cannot tell you more here, but wait for it!

Love from all things magical,

Luna Selena Nokomis Cynthia Diana Artemis Tsuki Gwendolyn Phoebe Lovegood

* * *

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Dear Luna,

HOW'D YOU KNOW MY MIDDLE NAME??!!

From,

Ron

* * *

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Dear Harry D. Potter

Enclosed, please find your Ordinary Wizarding Levels results:

Astronomy: Theory-E. Practical-P. Overall: A. Ability to Continue Course: Permitted.

Care of Magical Creatures: Theory-O. Practical-O. Overall-O. Ability to Continue Course: Strongly Advised.

Charms: Theory-O. Practical-E. Overall-O. Ability to Continue Course: Strongly Advised.

Defense Against Dark Arts: Theory-O. Practical-O. Overall-O. Ability to Continue Course: Strongly Advised.

Divination: Theory-T. Practical-T. Overall: T. Ability to Continue Course: Not permitted.

Herbology: Theory-O. Practical-E. Overall-O. Ability to Continue Course: Strongly Advised.

History of Magic: Theory/Practical-T. Overall-T. Ability to Continue Course: Not permitted.

Potions: Theory-A. Practical-E. Overall-E. Ability to Continue Course: Not permitted.

Transfiguration: Theory-E. Practical-O. Overall-O. Ability to Continue Course: Strongly Advised.

Complete Student Average: E

Good luck in your next year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
Sincerely,

Professor Griselda Marchbanks

__

Head of Wizarding Education Authority

* * *

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Dear Hermione E. Granger

Enclosed, please find your Ordinary Wizarding Levels results:

Arithmancy: Theory/Practical-O. Overall: O. Ability to Continue Course: Strongly Advised

Astronomy: Theory-O. Practical-E. Overall-O. Ability to Continue Course: Strongly Advised

Care of Magical Creatures: Theory-O. Practical-O. Overall-O. Ability to Continue Course: Strongly Advised

Charms: Theory-O. Practical-O. Ability to Continue Course: Strongly Advised

Defense Against Dark Arts: Theory-O. Practical-O. Overall-O. Ability to Continue Course-Strongly Advised.

Herbology: Theory-O. Practical-O. Overall-O. Ability To Continue Course: Strongly Advised.

History of Magic: Theory/Practical-E. Overall-E. Ability to Continue Course: Permitted.

Potions: Theory-O. Practical-O. Overall: O. Ability to Continue Course: Strongly Advised.

Study of Ancient Runes: Theory/Practical-O. Overall-O. Ability to Continue Course: Strongly Advised.

Transfiguration: Theory-O. Practical-O. Ability to Continue Course: Strongly Advised.

Complete Student Average: O

Good luck in your next year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Sincerely,

Professor Griselda Marchbanks

Head of Wizarding Education Authority

* * *

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Dear Ronald R. Weasley

Enclosed, please find your Ordinary Wizarding Levels results:

Astronomy: Theory-E. Practical-P. Overall: A. Ability to Continue Course-Permitted.

Care of Magical Creatures: Theory-O. Practical-O. Overall-O. Ability to Continue Course: Strongly Advised.

Charms: Theory-E. Practical-A. Overall: E. Ability to Continue Course: Permitted.

Defense Against Dark Arts: Theory-O. Practical-O. Overall-O. Ability to Continue Course: Strongly Advised.

Divination: Theory/Practical: T. Overall-T. Ability to Continue Course: Not Permitted.

Herbology: Theory-O. Practical-O. Overall-O. Ability to Continue Course: Strongly Advised.

History of Magic: Theory/Practical-D. Overall-D. Ability Continue Course: Not Permitted.

Potions: Theory-A. Practical-A. Overall-A. Ability to Continue Course: Not Permitted.

Transfiguration: Theory-E. Practical-A. Overall-E. Ability to Continue Course: Permitted.

Complete Student Average: A

Good luck in your next year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

* * *

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Dear Petunia,

In regards to Harry's safety, it is imperative that both you and he relocate to a designated place. I cannot tell you any specifics here, but a select guard of wizards will fill you in. They will arrive on the 20th, the day you are designated to move from your house.

We at this designated place look forward to seeing Harry again, and we hope you shall like your new residence. After Harry leaves for Hogwarts you may find a new home, even though you are welcome to stay here. For now, though, you must stay where we put you.

With highest regards,

Prof. A. Dumbledore

* * *

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Dear Ron/Hermione, whomever this particular letter reaches,

It looks like I'm going You-Know-Where.

Love,

Harry

* * *

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Dear Harry,

Meet you there.

Love,

Ron/Hermione

* * *

All of Luna's midle names have to do with the moon. Harry's middle intial stands for "Daniel", Hermione's stands for "Emma", and Ron's stands for "Rupert". I like those middle names better than the real ones. 


	3. Letting Go, Holding On

Disclaimer-Don't own

Shout-outs:

JeanMarie-I am so happy you like it! Though I warn you, there are very deep Hermione/Harry and Ron/Luna angles to this fic and I know you do not support them. I hope you will continue reading it, though!

Mikee-I prefer "…Daniel Potter" to "…James Potter", just as I like "…Emma Granger" and "…Rupert Weasley" over "…Jane Granger" and "…Bilius Weasley."

* * *

Letting Go, Holding On

* * *

"When are your freak friends coming, boy?"

Harry looked up from his spot on the couch where he had been intently studying the carving on his trunk. His aunt sat primly beside him, her hands folded tightly in her lap.

"Relatively soon," Harry said. "No clue on the particular time, though."

"Hmph," was the reply. Harry expected nothing else. With a small, evil grin, he picked up his wand and dangled it from his fingers, allowing it to swing like a pendulum.

"PUT THAT AWAY!"

"You're not my uncle anymore, Mr. Dursely," Harry said, in an aggravatingly cheerful voice. "You can't tell me what to do."

"THIS IS STILL MY HOUSE!" Vernon lunged at Harry, his face turning an ugly shade of purple.

"You will not touch Harry."

The deadly calm of Petunia's voice managed to stop Vernon in his tracks, something she had never been able to do before or during their marriage.

"Harry is my nephew and as much as I despised his mother, he is my ward and you have no authority over him."

"It's you who have no authority here, you disgusting freak-hugger!" Vernon yelled at her.

She visibly flinched but retained her calm. "I am not a freak-hugger, and the only one disgusting here is you."

"You…"

DING-DONG.

"That would be them," Harry said, jumping up. "Excuse me while I interrogate them." He sprinted for the door and yanked it open.

"Hello, Harry."

"Professor Lupin!" Harry exclaimed, smiling. "And…Snape." His smile dropped. The sight of Snape's condescending face somehow soured this grand occasion for Harry. "Why is Snape here?" he asked Remus directly, not caring to keep his voice below earshot.

"Spy mission," Remus answered carefully.

"Oh." Harry chewed his tongue. "Well, I'm really sorry, but I'm gonna ask you both questions. Professor Lupin, which passageway in the school is closed off?"

"The one on the fourth floor behind the mirror."

"And Snape…excuse me, Professor Snape," he said sardonically. He thought for a moment. "What did you find by the Whomping Willow at the end of my third year?"

"Your accursed Invisibility Cloak, which I WILL confiscate from you, Potter."

"I'm satisfied," Harry said, brushing off Snape's comments. "Hey, Hedwig."

Vernon roared in rage as Hedwig pushed open the unlocked cage door and flew to Harry's shoulder. Harry grinned again. It was always fun to put one over on Vernon.

"Good girl. So, how are we getting to You-Know-Where?"

"Muggle way. Car. You and your aunt can't Apparate, it's too bright for brooms, I don't want to set up an illegal Portkey, and I think we'd all prefer to avoid the Knight Bus." He grimaced a little. "Cars are less suspicious, at any rate."

"Whatever; it's all good." He turned and went for his trunk.

"Right, well, 'bye," Harry said, glancing shortly and contemptuously at his ex-uncle and cousin as he dragged his trunk across the floor. "Try not to sit on any cats, will you two?"

"You little freak of nature…"

Remus raised his wand. "You were saying?"

Vernon snorted roughly but shrank back. Snape couldn't help but let a chuckle escape. What a fat oaf.

"Shrink your luggage and put it in the trunk, Harry," Remus said as Harry walked past him.

"Sure thing, Professor!" Harry called back. They heard the unmistakable thump of the trunk opening, and then the Shrinking Spell. A month ago Petunia would have shrieked at the thought of Harry uttering a spell in public. Now, it didn't bring quite such a calamity upon her.

"If you'll abide with us for a few minutes, Mr. Dursely," Remus said. "Ms. Evans, may I speak to you for a moment?"

Petunia nearly jumped. No one had called her by her maiden name in years. She ran her fingers through her hair as if it would clear the sudden clouds in her mind and stepped towards Remus.

"You're Remus Lupin, aren't you?" Petunia said.

"Did Lily speak about me?" Remus asked, slightly taken aback.

"She'd show me pictures sometimes when I was particularly bored," Petunia answered.

"Well, yes, I am. Remus John Lupin. Do you mind if I call you "Petunia"? I had gotten used to Lily calling you by your given name. It was strange for me to call you "Ms. Evans"."

"I honestly don't care," Petunia said. "What is it, Remus?"

"About Harry." Remus's face darkened. "Has he been suffering from anything? Insomnia? Anorexia? Anything at all; I want to know."

Petunia's thoughts grazed back to all the nights she had checked in on Harry to find him tossing and muttering in his sleep. Something about Cedric and Sirius and a Veil. Things she didn't understand.

"Nightmares," she said shortly. "Just nightmares."

"Nightmares?" A cloud passed over Remus's face. "Does he ever mention…" He glanced around the room, and lowered his voice. "Voldemort?"

"No. Just things about someone called Cedric Diggory and your friend Sirius Black and some Veil. I don't understand; he doesn't explain them and I've never asked."

"You've never asked?"

"No. Should I have?"

Remus wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "Yes, you should have, but there's no time to argue it now. I'll shrink your things and take them to the car."

True to his word, he muttered the Shrinking Spell and pocketed the now minuscule trunks that were Petunia's luggage. Nodding at Vernon and Dudley, he crossed the threshold and went to join Harry in the car.

It was just Petunia, Vernon, Dudley, and Snape in the living room now.

"I'll send the Child Support money as soon as I get a job," Petunia said to Vernon stiffly. He sniffed. She sighed but turned resolutely towards her son. "Dudders, Mummy will write to you as soon as she can, is that all right, popkin?"

Dudley stared at his mother like a deer caught in headlights. She went forward, her arms outstretched to hug him, but he stepped away.

"No!"

Petunia stopped mid-step. "Dudley, let Mummy hug you. I'm moving to London and can't see you for awhile."

"St-stay away from me! You-you freak-lover!"

"It appears, Ms. Evans, that your son lacks manners as well as brains."

Snape swept in, whisking his cloak around him, putting Dudley in the mind of Dracula. The fat boy recoiled in horror at this tall, dark, menacing man who stood over him, sneering contemptuously.

"It seems that all of this generation lack manners, not just the Weasley brats and Potter," Snape mused. "Give your mother a proper good-bye, or would you prefer some horns to match that demonic persona?"

"Don't threaten my so—" Petunia started, put before she could finish her sentence Dudley had wrapped his arms around her waist, hugged her briefly and tightly, and then ran away up the stairs, shrieking.

"Out! Out, now! OUT!" Vernon bellowed like a wounded bear.

"Believe me, I have no desire to remain here. Ms. Evans, if you'd be so gracious, kindly accompany me to that Muggle inconvenience called a car."

* * *

"Why did you threaten my son?" Petunia asked as soon as they crossed the threshold and the door was slammed behind them. "What did it matter to you if he said good-bye or not!"

"I simply dislike children with little or no manners, which is why your nephew has been a great trial for me for the past few years."

Petunia snorted sharply. "Well, I'm sorry that he's such a problem at school."

"It matters little whether you apologize or not."

Petunia snorted again and walked ahead. Snape sent a half-curious glance after her. This was the famous Lily Potter's sister. She had the same self-righteous spirit as Lily, but they shared little else. Not even eye color. Petunia's eyes were black like her hair, an unnatural black much like his own.

His eyes had been brown as a fairly young child, he remembered half-consciously. They had turned black after attending Hogwarts and returning home to find a new bruise upon Pearla Snape's body and more Firewhiskey, usually with less food, in the cabinets.

'What could possibly have turned that Muggle's eyes black?' he wondered absent-mindedly.

* * *

Harry and Petunia occupied the back seat of the car, Snape had the passenger seat, and Remus was driving. The three passengers stared out the window as they left Surrey.

Conversation was fairly forced. Severus retained his usual silent demeanor. Harry seemed content with the silence, and Petunia felt that she had nothing to say to these people whose entire world was beyond her comprehension. Remus eventually gave up trying to speak and fell into the quiet.

Snape couldn't help but look in the rearview mirror. He first turned his gaze to Harry. His hated student had his eyes squinted shut and was biting his knuckles. Clearly thinking of Sirius and the Veil.

He turned his gaze away from Harry and his eyes rested on Petunia. He was startled to see that she had covered her mouth with her hand as if to still sobs. Her eyes were lightly shut, and he thought he saw a tear escape from the corner of her eye.

* * *

"We're here," Remus finally said. They had finally pulled up in font of the sprawling #12 Grimmauld Place mansion. It was the first words spoken in hours. "Petunia, I know you can't see it, so just…"

"What do you mean, I can't see it?" Petunia asked. "As if I can't see that huge thing? Do you think I'm blind?"

"Are you looking at number 12?" Remus asked, furrowing his brow.

"Yeah," Petunia said, sending him a funny look. "What's the problem?"

"The problem is…that this house is invisible to Muggle eyes."

"So, what are you saying?" Harry interjected. "My aunt has magical powers?"

"That's ridiculous," Petunia said sharply. "Why should I have powers now if I didn't when I was 11?"

"I don't know," Remus said slowly.

"And I'm sure I don't care," Snape added. "I want to exit this contraption before it breaks down."

"No, we're going to sit here for another hour. Because all that we do is to annoy you." Petunia ferociously shoved upon her door and stepped out, slamming it behind her.

Remus and Harry sent raised eyebrows at each other in the rearview mirror. Despite the depression of the day and this new question of Petunia's magical ability, it was interesting to see this meek mouse standing up to Severus Snape.

And that Snape had no sarcastic return comment for her.

* * *

Honestly, I didn't like this chapter much, but it's necessary, at any rate. 


	4. Collision of Worlds

Disclaimer-I don't own anything

A/N-I didn't like last chapter because pre-son it was very choppy writing. This chapter is better, though

* * *

Collision of Worlds

* * *

"HARRY!"

Petunia, Remus, and Snape all managed to side-step in time to avoid being trampled as Hermione ran over the threshold, launched herself onto Harry, and wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug.

"Oh, Harry, it's been ages since you wrote to us! I was...Everyone was getting so worried!"

"Sorry," Harry apologized. "I was either packing or praying to God that this wasn't some wonderful dream."

Hermione slapped his arm. "Well, don't worry us like that again! Everyone's waiting for you. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are here, and so are Ron and Ginny, and Tonks and the other...members...and you'll never guess who just joined! Apollo Lovegood; Luna's father!"

"Luna's dad?"

"Yes; I don't know how he knew but he asked to join not long ago, so he and Luna are staying here. Ginny and Luna share a room with me, and..." she dropped her voice so only he could hear her "...and I've been lacking for any intelligible conversation ever since I got here. Luna's so obviously infatuated with Ron; she won't stop singing Weasley Is Our King and Ginny just can't stop giggling when she sings it. I'm glad you're here so I can finally have an intelligent conversation with someone."

"Well, I can't say I'm glad to be here, but...at least I get to see you guys again."

"Oh, Harry." Hermione gave him a sympathetic squeeze around the neck.

"Are you guys gonna stand out there all day, or are you gonna come inside?"

"Hey, Ron," Harry said, as Hermione seized his hand and pulled him into the living room.

"Hey, Harry," Ron replied, giving Harry the token one-armed man-hug as Hermione dropped his hand. "How's it been?"

"Better than most summers," Harry answered. "Considering the circumstances."

Ron looked ready to say something, but bit his lip and glanced away. "You'd better prepare for the stampede, Harry. I give it three seconds. Three...two...one..."

"Harry!"

"I am SO good!"

Ginny vaulted across the room from the bottom of the stairs and flung her arms around Harry's waist. "I'm so glad you're here!" She dropped her voice like Hermione had. "Hermione's been so uptight since she got here, I'm hoping you can get her to loosen up!"

"Hello, Harry," a dreamy voice floated over the living room. Luna Lovegood sat on the last step, from which Ginny had jumped to get him. "Have you had a nice summer so far?"

"Fairly."

"That's lovely," She reached up and began toying with a strand of gray-blonde, wavy hair. "I'm sorry that my trip to Sweden was cut short, of course, but I'm glad to be here."

"Yeah...me too, in a way."

Harry looked around at the four people before him. Four of the six who had gone to the Department of Mysteries. Four people who had changed along with him.

The Weasleys didn't look changed, to be sure. Ron's height seemed to be stayed at its current status so far. The token Weasley freckles were clearing, though, and his red hair and blue eyes were darker. Ginny, too, had not grown at all except for the length of her hair, which now reached her tailbone, and her face was clearing, too.

It was Hermione and Luna who had changed, Harry noted. Hermione had shot up an inch, making her just barely below his own height. Her hair had darkened into a dark-chocolate brown color and seemed to be settling a bit, though still immensely curly. Luna, on the other hand, had remained at her own height and her hair was no less unkempt, but her gangly body now had the lean, toned look of exercise. Probably from hiking all over Sweden.

But these didn't really compare to the one change that Harry couldn't quite place. Something about these girls reminded him of his own mother. Something shown out from Hermione and Luna that was reminiscent of the pictures of Lily the day she married James.

He shook it off as the door leading further inside the house opened.

"HARRY!"

Harry had the feeling of lungs collapsing as Molly Weasley came out of nowhere and enveloped him a huge bear hug. When she let go, he fixed his glasses, which had been knocked askew.

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear, but I've just been so worried! Not hearing from you was driving me mad. Sometimes it's like you're my 8th child. Not to put down any claim that your parents and your aunt and...and my cousin-in-law have to you." She patted Harry's arm and gave Petunia a welcoming smile. "It's the mother hen in me. Well, why don't you go on with my Ron and my Ginny, and Luna and Hermione, to the dining room? My twin delinquents," she wrinkled her nose in begrudging affection, "are finally taking time from their shop to visit us and they have some new "merchandise" to show off. I swear, that joke shop will be the death of us all."

"Yeah, come on Harry," Ron said, as Hermione took his arm and dragged him towards the younger half of the room. "I hear the twins just came out with Coughing Candies," he whispered. "You can actually cough up phlegm, and blood if you get the expensive stuff."

"Now, why couldn't they invent that while we still took Potions?" Harry asked as Ron and Hermione led him away, Ginny and Luna trailing after.

Molly finally turned to the older guests.

"How was the ride from Surrey, Remus?"

"Quiet, but otherwise uneventful," Remus answered. "Listened to music most of the way."

"That's nice," Molly said. "Well, Tonks is looking for your help in the kitchen. She says you're the only one who can help her make a decent meal."

Petunia suspected that there was something more than cooking going on between Remus and this "Tonks" person, due to the suddenly embarrassed look on Remus's face, Snape's condescending smirk, and Molly's disapproving countenance.

"Th-thank you, Molly. Will you set up Petunia while I help Tonks?"

"Of course."

Remus sent one last, embarrassed look at the three of them, mumbled a good-bye, and left for the kitchen.

Molly sighed. "Couldn't be helped, I suppose." She shook her head. "Severus, will you be joining us for dinner?"

"If I must, I must."

"Well, you must, because Dumbledore will be joining us and he wants to hear your plans."

"My gratitude for your gracious welcome," he sneered.

Molly snorted and ended the conversation by turning to Petunia.

"And you must be Petunia Evans. Welcome to Black Manor, dear. I'm Molly Weasley; my cousin-in-law owned this house before he...well, he recently passed away."

"My condolences," Petunia said, a trace automatically, but Molly smiled at her anyway.

"Thank you. Well, I hope you'll like your stay here. We finally got this place cleaned up; it was absolutely filthy last year. And we have people in and out everyday, so you won't lack for company. My husband Arthur—you've met him—is working now but he'll be home soon. My two youngest are here with us until they go back to school. You must know of them—Ron and Ginny? They're very close to Harry."

"I don't know any of Harry's friends by name or by face."

"Oh...Well, they'll be here until September starts. My twins, Fred and George, run a joke shop. Not the most noteworthy of jobs but if they're making money...Well, my three oldest aren't here very often. Bill and Percy are at work most of the day, and Charlie is in Romania. I do wish he'd at least come to the country oftener but you know the schedules of Dragon Handlers. So hectic."

"Actually, I don't."

"...Oh..." Molly could tell that her attempt at polite small talk was becoming severely uncomfortable for all involved excluding Snape, who was smirking. Molly did not want to make Harry's aunt stay start off with a failed conversation. Molly loved people; she sorely regretted never fully patching up the fight with Sirius before his death, and was taking care to try and reach out to people who would accept it. Snape was unreachable, but perhaps this strange Muggle woman with the hopeless eyes could be helped.

"Well, you must be starving, dear. Come into the dining room; dinner's almost ready."

* * *

A stranger sight Petunia had never seen. Harry and his friends were grouped around a table, laughing at the antics of identical twins; squealing as they coughed things into glasses. A tall black man was in deep conversation with an elderly, frightening man with a strange eye. Two women, both with black hair, one with blue eyes and one with green, were seating and talking to each other in a way that Petunia saw as fairly romantic. A tight-laced, brunette, elderly woman also sat at the table, watching the twins with a disapproving look. Two tiny men were shuffling about the kitchen, getting the dishes to the table. Remus, she saw, was standing over the stove, dangerously close to the much younger woman, who was laughing and licking sauce off her fingers.

Petunia took a seat at the table, and then screamed and jumped up as a body feelin into her lap.

"Sorry, sorry!" the grungy, dirty man said, picking himself off the floor. "You've took my seat, it seems."

"Mundungus..." Molly started, but sighed and left off. Her attempts at reforming his manners were not working, and she was tired of trying. "Everyone!" She clapped her hands loudly and the din began to settle down. "Listen up!"

Petunia was aware of all eyes on her as Molly stopped clapping her hands. "Everybody, this is Petunia Evans, Harry's aunt. She's staying with us for this summer, at the least. Now, I want you to make her feel welcome." Molly's unspoken "or else" hung in the air.

Petunia suddenly had a feeling of being among the enemy. Almost no one was looking at her with a face remotely welcoming. What report had Harry given him about his foster family?

"Petunia, this oaf is Mundungus Fletcher," Molly said, gesturing towards the filthy man who had landed on her. "Remus over there is standing with Tonks. She's an Auror—she fights Dark Wizards."

"Hi," Tonks said. "You have an amazingly clean house, Ms. Evans."

"That's Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody," Molly said, gesturing, before Petunia could ask how Tonks knew about her house. "They're Aurors, too, though Moody is retired."

"Hello," Kingsley said, and Moody grunted.

"Those two are Hestia Jones and Emmeline Vance," she said, gesturing to the two close women. Hestia, with blue eyes, waved cheerily, and Emmeline, with green eyes, nodded regally.

"These are Elphias Doge and Dedalus Diggle."

"You bowed to my nephew in a shop once," Petunia said, looking at Dedalus.

"She remembers me, too!" Dedalus squeaked, dropping his hat.

"And this is Minerva McGonagall. She teaches Transfiguration at the school."

Minerva nodded sharply. Petunia had the distinct feeling that this wasn't a woman to cross.

"And since you're unsure about Harry's friends..." Molly went over and placed a hand on Ginny's head. "This is Ginny, my youngest. And this is Ron, my second youngest. These are Hermione and Luna. And those two look-alikes are my twins, Fred and George."

"How do you do, ma'am?" George asked.

"Fancy a bit of candy?" Fred asked.

"Frederick James Weasley, if you dare..." Molly started, her face turning red.

"A mere jest, dearest mum of mine," Fred said, pocketing the small, blue-wrapped candy he had offered.

"I didn't know your middle name was "James"," Harry said.

"It's in honor of your father, dear," Molly said, flicking her wand to bring a glass to the table. "He fended off a few Death Eaters who attacked Arthur and I on our way to St. Mungo's when I was going into labor."

"Really? That's awesome," Harry said.

""St. Mungo's"?" Petunia repeated.

"That's the wizarding hospital, dear," Molly said. "There are several branches: Magical Maladies and Injuries, Muggle-Related Maladies and Injuries, Psychosomatic Illnesses, Pediatrics, it goes on and on."

"If I get enough NEWTs, I think I might work in the Psychosomatic Illnesses branch," Hermione said, a little shyly.

"First of all, you'll get enough NEWTs, and second of all, you're certainly good enough to be a psychologist. You understand everything; you even figured out Cho! " Harry said.

"The little psycho," Ron muttered.

"NEWTs?" Petunia said, sitting down at a free chair.

"Standardized wizarding tests," Hermione explained. "At the end of our 7th year, we take the NEWTs to show which classes we're skilled in. You know, for job references."

"I know what NEWTs are. I remember Lily studying for them," Petunia said.

Harry looked at his aunt. Her face seemed a little puckered, but she continued, as if she spoke of her deceased sister on an everyday basis. "From what I remember, she was especially good at Charms."

"Yes, she was," McGonagall spoke up. "I was her Head of House; she was one of my brightest students. Never caused trouble. Always did her work. I looked forward to being her colleague one day, if she ever retired from Healing to teach, like she said she might."

"My mother was a Healer?" Harry interrupted.

"At St. Mungo's Hospital for Pediatrics," McGonagall answered, as if this was an obvious bit of information any fool would know. "Hasn't your aunt filled you in on anything about your parents? I expect she might not know anything about James, of course, but Lily's her own sister..."

"Perhaps," Snape muttered from his spot in the corner where he stood obvious yet camouflaged all at once against the blue paint of the dining room, "prejudice and mistrust is not reserved solely for rich, pure-blood wizards."

All eyes looked at Snape, and then at Petunia, who seemed tremulous with silent fury. She began drumming her fingers on the table, a tactic she had taught herself years ago for when her temper had no suitable outlet.

"That's quite enough, Severus," Molly ordered, and Snape shrugged unceremoniously. He had touched a nerve in this Muggle woman. Perhaps this small comment would help explain why her eyes were as black as his own were.

CRACK!

The room jumped again, and this time a tall, wiry, red-haired man had suddenly appeared in the kitchen.

"Hello, Arthur," Molly said, going forward to kiss this man on the cheek. "How was work?"

"Had to sort through some light bulbs that explode when the Muggle thinks too hard," Arthur answered. "Honestly, the nonsense some wizards go through to make sport of Muggles..."

"Speaking of, Arthur, this is Petunia Evans."

"Oh, hello," Arthur said, turning around to look at her. "Allow me to apologize again for blowing up your living room."

"It's not my house anymore, so if you want to apologize, do so to my ex-husband."

"Right...well..."

"Din-air ees serv-ed!" Tonks suddenly announced, in a terrible French accent.

"Thank God, I'm starving!" Ron announced loudly, the sound of his stomach growling matching in volume.

"Ron, it's rude to sound exasperated like that," Molly admonished absently. "Pop that over here, Tonks, this lot won't stop bellyaching until they have food."

"Mum!"

Petunia watched this scene with a pang of longing; how often had this scenario happened with Dudley and herself?

Suddenly she felt terribly lonely, even with a room filled with people. She didn't know these people and they barely knew her; her entire life had shattered because of one question Harry had dared her to ask, she had lost her son and her home in one day. And now she was watching someone else enjoy what just a month ago she had enjoyed as well.

She stood up suddenly, and all eyes turned to look at her.

"What's wrong, dear?" Molly asked.

"I'm not feeling entirely well," Petunia said.

"We'll let some air in, then," Molly said. "Ron, would you go and—"

"No, that's not necessary," Petunia interrupted. "I want to relax a bit before I eat. Settle my stomach. I don't do car rides well. I think I'll step into the drawing room for a bit."

"Just don't leave the house, okay?" Molly warned worriedly.

"Yes, of course," Petunia said automatically, averting her gaze from everyone else as she walked from the room.

Only one intense black stare caught her eyes. Severus Snape watched her as she made for the door, frowning slightly. This woman was too secretive for his liking. He liked knowing people inside and out—and this Petunia was annoying him. He didn't like not understanding people.

His frown deepened as she walked out the door and shut it behind her. As the door clicked shut, he straightened from his leaning position against the wall, muttered an "Excuse me", and reached for the door handle.


End file.
